


the way we Appear

by happychopsticks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agender Kenma, Character Study, M/M, Other, People Watching, Polyamory, Post-High School, coming home, iwaoi on the side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4574328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happychopsticks/pseuds/happychopsticks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tooru finds himself enraptured with watching the people around him in a small outdoor cafe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way we Appear

Tooru collapses in a seat at the cafe table with a tired breath.

Being patient is exhausting.

_I'll meet you at 4:15_ the text had said- and here he was, at 4:17, at the arranged location- and his date was nowhere in sight. _Rude_. He could at least have the decency to text and let Tooru know he was going to be more than two minutes late. Well- he flinches and shakes his head, tries to adjust his thoughts to some of a more considerate variety. His day so far is not overflowing with any ability for contented patience. Another breath pushes past his lips, this one an attempt at finding that peace. He'd just been so looking forward to this respite after the week he's had, and he's annoyed to have to wait _even longer_ for it.

He allows his eyes to roam the surrounding tables and environment. There's a nice breeze that tickles his hair every thirty seconds or so and seems to remind him that it _is_ actually possible to relax while waiting for someone. He hasn't ordered anything to drink yet- he was waiting on his companion to do so- so he has nothing to fiddle with until he finds a stray leaf that had blown onto his table. He starts to fold and tear it into tiny pieces while he catalogues his surrounding cafe patrons- one of his favorite games.

There's a group of teenagers at the table furthest from the door. Younger ones, fourteen and fifteen, dressed to surprise and made up of all the things they currently love the most. Bags covered in pins and outfits accented with brightly colored accessories with more characters than Tooru can name. They're talking in not-so-hushed voices littered with laughter about a movie Tooru has been meaning to see. He tunes them out so as not to hear details he'd rather be surprised with.

There's an older man and a young woman sitting at a smaller table next to the entrance. Their faces are serene, as if this meeting is going to be the most soulful part of their day. The girl holds a large cup of something covered in whipped cream that looks very inviting to Tooru's tastes and before the man rests an equally large cup of tea surrounded by empty sugar packets. They don't talk much, they're mostly doing what Tooru is- watching the people in and around the cafe, only to fall back into easy conversation after a few long moments of relaxed silence. He wonders if they're talking about the people they see. He wonders what they've said about him.

Two tables away from him sits a couple that looks closer to his age, maybe a little younger. The taller of the two (though not as tall as Tooru, he gathers) has dark hair that appears to be in a constant state of just-windswept. He's well-defined, though not bulging with excessive strength. He's wiry. His eyes are heavy things, the lids low and creating an inviting gaze while still managing to look too intimidating to approach easily. His face is...annoyingly beautiful. As if carved into something soft, complete with lips that feature a perfect cupid's bow, reminding Tooru of a classic work of art that sits in a museum and makes scholars wonder about the artist's sexuality. Tooru allows himself a huff of laughter. Windswept-chan looks down at his- date?- every few moments as if checking to see if they're still there.

His date, Tooru assumes, doesn't seem to really be...there. They haven't looked up from their phone once since Tooru's been spying on them, tapping away with the kind of focus that says they're looking at a game rather than an important series of texts. Their eyes are _big_ and cat-like, their slightly puffy lips pulled into the sweetest pout Tooru has ever seen outside of a mirror. Their appearance reminds Tooru of something soft that should be sheltered and kept safe- draping blond hair that needs to be re-dyed, a soft hoodie with a video game logo over the breast, a medium-length grey skirt with pockets that cover most of the material, and body language that points to wishes of being inside at a corner booth rather than in the middle of this large group of tables out amongst too many people.

The two haven't spoken since he's arrived, he realizes. Windswept-chan looking down the street most of the time, as if- oh. They're waiting for someone, too. Someone who's just arrived, based on the sudden sparkle in Windswept-chan's eyes. He nudges the little one beside him gently before standing up with a smile that looks bigger than he's probably aware of. The little one- _Pudding-chan_ , Tooru decides, because of his hair- turns off his phone and looks up expectantly, no smile on his face but wide eyes that maybe speak more than a simple anticipatory smile could. Oh wait, there is a smile. A tiny one. One that is usually kept secret, he thinks. How _sweet_.

It's two someones, whoever they were waiting for, and Tooru stifles a laugh as they approach and he gets a good look at them. They're managing to run towards the table while still appearing to walk for the sake of public decency, but he doubts anyone is fooled. They're excited, ecstatic, and Tooru wonders how long it's been since these four have seen each other.

One of the runners is about Tooru's height, if a little broader in the shoulders, he's solid and athletically built. _Dark_ is the only word Tooru thinks of. Not only does he have a deep russet skin tone to contrast the two rather creamy and pale tones of Windswept-chan and Pudding-chan, but his hair is jet black. And sticking up in every direction, though there's a frill that seems consistent through it, like a rooster's comb. Tooru is amusingly appalled. His eyes rest deep in his skull and give him the appearance of assuming that nothing is to be taken seriously. The irises, though not as big as Pudding-chan's, share the same color of gold. Above his strong jaw is an open smile that lies just on this side of teasing, a smirk residing comfortably beneath it. Tooru assumes it's more obvious when he's not overwhelmed with anticipatory joy.

In a race with Rooster-chan is an even wilder specimen. Where Rooster-chan is broad, this one is even broader to make up for his lost height between the two, appearing stocky and built. His eyes are wide and excited, the type to betray every emotion that flickers across his mind, Tooru thinks. And his _eyebrows_. His eyebrows are beings entirely of their own, strongly arched over his eyes and white, which Tooru isn't sure he's ever seen before. But that's to say nothing of his hair. His hair. If Rooster-chan's hair sticks up in every direction, this one's hair covers wherever that black mess missed. It's gelled up in an assemblance of what looks like two horns, though there are many spiked strands that lie outside of these. He reminds Tooru of an overexcited bird with its feathers puffed up.

They reach their destination, neither of them winning the race, and they both engulf Windswept-chan in what appears to be a very painful embrace. Windswept-chan accepts it with grace, however, and a wide smile splits his face to meet his eyes. He looks like he's stifling laughter, bubbled up from a small hysteria of joy at finally seeing these two overbearing and large creatures. They each kiss one of his cheeks at the same time before taking turns meeting his lips with their own and holding him in equally meaningful kisses. Rooster-chan is the only one that tries to use tongue.

Once they've greeted the one that stood to greet them, they descend upon Pudding-chan with frightening enthusiasm. Tooru is slightly concerned for a moment before he sees another wide smile resting under Pudding-chan's pink-dusted cheeks. The smile looks like one that started in their eyes, now almost squeezed shut, and spread down to their lips. Pudding-chan is showered with kisses to cover every plane of their face before either of the two meet their lips, which Pudding-chan responds to with their arms around shoulders and hands buried up into wild hair.

Tooru feels as if he's intruding.

The wild ones finally sit, parking themselves at opposite ends of the table so they each have Pudding-chan and Windswept-chan at their sides. Windswept-chan slides a beverage to each of them, which they accept gratefully, and sits back with a satisfied smile. This is a prompt, Tooru realizes, when the two immediately launch into tales about how long their flight was and what the food was like and whether or not Feathered-chan really almost got on the wrong plane.

_They must be dating_ , he thinks. _All of them_. He watches 'Kou' and 'Tetsu' each take one of Pudding-chan's hands in their own and softly drag their thumbs back and forth across Pudding-chan's knuckles as they each interject during the other's stories. There's a lot of laughter, a lot of finally-at-ease smiles and Tooru can't help but find himself smiling with them, the leaf in his hands now reduced to dozens of torn shapes.

He's so intrigued and focused on these four that he doesn't notice when another presence joins him at his table with a huff and an apology that stops short.

"Tooru."

He startles. "Iwa-chan! How long have you been there?"

An already exasperated breath of laughter. "I just sat down. I was about to apologize for being late but you didn't look like you'd noticed." Iwaizumi's eyes trail over to the table of four. "It's rude to stare at people, Trashkawa."

Tooru's cheeks puff up with indignation. "Well it's rude to be late without even texting, Iwa-chan."

"It was only ten minutes." Iwaizumi's eyes soften. "You looked peaceful."

**Author's Note:**

> the girl and the older man are me and my dad having our weekly lunch meeting to psychoanalyze and talk shit about the people at our surrounding tables


End file.
